


Caged and Feral

by january_farout



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aggression, Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Choking, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Feminization, M/M, Pining, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Frustration, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Tongue Fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/january_farout/pseuds/january_farout
Summary: Jason just... really loves boys. He'd fuck pretty much every boy, but that makes Ilya jealous. Ilya can be dangerous when he's jealous.Or1. Jason asks Ilya for help with a personal problem.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

1

Jason clenched and unclenched his fist anxiously, taking a deep breath and deciding quickly to just do it before he lost his nerve. He walked with purpose, end in sight, and hooked his hand in the crook of Ilya's elbow, pulling him away from the crowd and into a nook. 

"Hey," Jason said, already breathless.

"Hey," Ilya responded, most likely confused as to what Jason would proposition him with. What was he doing anyway? 

"The weather, right? And sports?" 

"I guess?"

"Sorry, just trying to get the small talk out of the way." Was his neck sweating? Oh, yes, yes it was. 

It didn't help that Jason just noticed how pleasantly Ilya's Adam's Apple bobbed when he laughs. How distracting of an observation.

"Are you trying to ask me something?" Ilya asked.

"Um, y-yes, yeah." Jason could simply hit himself for acting so stupid. "Do you wanna come to my house after school?"

Ilya raised an eyebrow. Jason couldn't blame him. It wasn't like they hung out often. Or ever actually. But after sweeping Jason from head to toe with his gaze, he shrugged and said, "Sure." 

Dumbfounded, Jason just stared with his mouth slightly open, hardly hearing the bell. Did he really just say yes? Students bustled past them, so Ilya took it upon himself to let the current take him, clapping Jason on the shoulder. "See you at the end."

And, well, Jason wasn't expecting to come out to the parking lot when the last bell rang to see Ilya straddling his motorcycle, dark pants stretching obscenely over long legs, with an extra helmet underneath his arm. 

"Is that for me?" was the only thing Jason's mouth could get out.

No response came, only an outstretched arm. Jason reached out and took it, heart hammering. He hoped he looked cool as he swung a leg over the back of the bike, but he knew the truth of his clumsiness, especially when he was talking to a cute boy, and was positive his knee buckled from how hard it was shaking. Nonetheless, he got on with minimal bruises, which was always a win in his book, and put on his helmet. 

He slowly lowered his hands to Ilya's shoulders. Strong, impossibly broad, sturdy shoulders. Jason's eyes drank him in. Ilya turned over the engine, startling Jason out of his reverie. He jerked the bike, laughing when Jason reflexively lurched forward to hold Ilya's waist. He turned his head back to him, flipped up the visor, and said "Don't let go. I like to go fast."

Jason nodded, exhilaration filling his veins. The vibrations made him feel alive, like the time he sat on the washing machine and almost passed out. He'd never seen his town like this, fast flashes rushing by his face. Lights and faces blurred and everything behind them moved away so quickly. Ilya took him on the highway, and Jason understood that he was doing that for him, to show him how fast they could go, to give him a thrill. Being thought about gave him a thrill. 

The ride was over too quickly in Jason's opinion. They pulled into his driveway and Jason hopped off as Ilya put down his kickstand and stood up. Jason found he couldn't swallow as he watched Ilya shake his hair out, and he knew his dumb expression betrayed his every thought. When Ilya took the spare helmet from him, their fingers brushed, and electricity shot down to Jason's toes.

As Jason led the way inside, he briefly thought about how his mother would react to seeing a motorcycle in her driveway. 

Pausing just before opening the door, Jason had a thought. "Hey, how did you know where I lived?"

"Your dad's the mayor. I think most people know." He gestured to the opulent mansion they were about to enter. 

"Oh, right." Jason's cheeks burned. "Welcome, please take off your shoes as you'll notice there's an overwhelming amount of white in here. Not unlike Congress, right?" Jason nudged Ilya with his elbow, nearly knocking him over as he leaned down to unlace his boots. "Oops, sorry."

Ilya gave him an amused chuckle and Jason excitedly took one of his hands in both of his and pulled him into the parlor. "That's a conversation pit. We're not allowed to sit in it. It's for display only." He pointed to a sunken in living room, pristinely set up to look perfect for guests. "That's a grand piano no one plays. We're not allowed to play it. It's for display only." Still holding Ilya's hand, he dragged his guest through the house to the kitchen, giving the important tidbits of the tour his mother always leaves out. "And this is the kitchen, the only important room in this house, other than mine of course." He pulled open the fridge, revealing perfectly stocked items and plenty of options. "It all grows back immediately after taking anything. Just kidding, my parents pay a personal grocer to come every two days and restock things. It's a very expensive service." 

Jason was babbling. He knew that. It's just that he couldn't stop when he was nervous like this. When his guts were roiling and neck prickling. When he was talking to a boy. 

"Jason." Just hearing his name in that deep timber made him freeze in place. A light touch to his elbow had him turning around. Ilya crowded in close, leaning forward to ask, "Why did you bring me here?" Ilya's eyes were so green and Jason was definitely getting burned by their fire.

Jason gulped twice before he could get anything out. "For healthy refreshments...?" He laughed weakly until he noticed Ilya's no-nonsense look and then cleared his throat, standing straight. "Fine, for whatever reason I... trust you."

"With?"

"S-something I need help with." He couldn't look at Ilya's eyes anymore or they might kill him. He turned around and quickly grabbed two bottles of water. "Come with me." Up the winding staircase made of marble, past the portrait of his great-great Aunt Harriet whose eyes followed in Christian judgement, and into the last room on the left with the best windows in the house. 

"Welp, here's my room. That's where I sleep, I procrastinate there-" The sound of the door clicking shut made Jason shut up. Ilya was standing in front of it, sleeves rolled up to expose sinewy forearms that Jason's hungry eyes couldn't look away from. 

Jason must have been staring for quite some time, because Ilya shrugged and said, "So?"

"So?" Jason dazedly repeated. "Oh, right. I, uh, asked you over to... to-" Oh, no, he could feel it, he was losing his nerve. He was always out of his element when trying to talk to Ilya. His hand slid across his desk as he desperately fumbled for an excuse. "To sign my yearbook? Yes, to sign my yearbook." He held it up with a sheepish grin, all the while kicking himself for being such a coward.

Ilya quirked a quizzical brow, obviously having trouble believing the bullshit coming out of Jason's mouth. "Really. That's why you asked me here?" He took the yearbook and looked at the front cover. "This is from an elementary school."

"Yeah, that's the new thing really-"

"Jason," Ilya deadpanned. "I would like the truth." Oh, right, Ilya was like that. Always straight to the point, not one for nonsense.

He was so close, Jason could smell him. A mouthwatering, spiced scent. Those lips. He couldn't stop staring at those lips, lips that have been in his dreams. A crippling wave of yearning desire made his limbs go relaxed, made him reach out, grasp the lapel of Ilya's jacket, and yank him forward. He paused one second before their lips touched, just to see the surprise that flitted across Ilya's face, and then he was kissing him. It didn't start out sweet or soft, it was immediately ravenous and rough, Jason's need obvious as he eagerly pushed Ilya's leather jacket off his burly shoulders and slid an arm around his neck, weaving his hand into his soft, wavy hair and pulling. Ilya's hands slowly slid up Jason's thighs as he caught on to what they were doing.

So controlled in manner, he always was. But Jason couldn't wait; his hands flew to Ilya's belt, dragging up his shirt for better access and immediately moving down to mouth at the exposed skin of his taut belly.

Ilya let out a shuddering breath and ran a hand through his hair. Then, with what seemed like a colossal use of self-control and will power, Ilya pulled Jason's hands away from his belt and tilted his chin with a finger. "Jason," he said, as he ran a thumb across Jason's red and swollen lips. Ilya's eyes were almost black with rapaciousness. The sight nearly drove Jason crazy as he leaned up on his tiptoes to capture that mouth again, but as his lips grazed the other's, he felt hands on his waist pushing him away.

Was this... rejection? Of him? He was a freckled spitfire with the body of a star baseball player, that much he knew. He wouldn't even turn himself down.

"Jason, I'm sorry, I can't- I'm not supposed to-" Ilya seemed at a loss for words. He let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on Jason's bed, rubbing his temples with both hands. Jason had never seen him like this before. Ilya was always so composed and perfect. Quiet, only choosing to speak when he truly meant it, never stuttering over words like Jason did. He watched from up against his desk as Ilya carefully chose his words. "I'm not allowed."

"Allowed to do what? Kiss boys?"

Ilya gave a bitter, dry laugh. "No, no. Yes, and no. But not only that." It was clear he wasn't going to elaborate further.

Jason didn't have time for this. His parents would be home by six. That barely gave him three hours. "Well, who says you're not allowed?"

Ilya sighed and looked out the window to the spectacular view of their home garden. If he was amazed by the sight, he didn't make it known. Finally he settled on saying, "Someone with a lot of power over my life."

Hearing Ilya readily admit he wasn't in total control of himself made Jason's head reel. He always seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't take shit from anyone. Jason didn't know what to say; the conversation had taken an unexpectedly unsexy turn, and he wanted to get that vibe back. So, Ilya probably had strict parents, maybe even homophobic parents, but his lust for Jason was obvious so fucking sue him for exploiting that. Ilya wouldn't be the first boy Jason had seduced.

Slowly, he unzipped his jacket. In the quiet room, the sound drew Ilya's eyes, which immediately snapped up to Jason's face to try to read his expression. He liked what he saw. In his pure green eyes, even from all the way over here, Jason could tell Ilya's pupils were still blown wide. He dropped the letterman jacket to the floor, then picked up the hem of his t-shirt and bit down on it while he undid his jeans, tortuously slow. Ilya's hands gripped the mattress with white knuckles. His eyes could not stray.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he almost whispered. He clenched his jaw tight.

Jason kicked his jeans away from him and tucked his shirt behind his head, keeping his smooth, taut stomach and defined chest framed and on display. Two cute, pink nipples stiffened proudly, begging for attention.

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Ilya's neck.

As he prowled closer to the boy sitting on the bed, Jason hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boy shorts, giving teasing glimpses of his shapely hips. "I can't do this alone. Believe me, I've tried."

"I know of your reputation. You could choose anyone you want. Why me?" Ilya demanded again, this time seemingly angry. No, not angry. Pissed the fuck off. A sane man would have backed down at hearing that tone coming from such an imposing figure, thought to question if the anger was directed at him, but Jason wasn't sane, not anymore. He'd been driven to madness from lack of satisfaction. So many late nights sobbing into his pillow having woken from dreams of scalding green eyes watching him, but never touching him.

He slotted himself over one thick thigh, hands running down his own chest over his stomach, feeling himself, his torso rolling with the touch. "Because, Ilya," he sighed, as if it were obvious. He placed his arms around Ilya's neck and bent down to his ear to whisper, "There's a hunger inside of you. And I want you to take it out on me." 

What can only be described as a snarl escaped Ilya's lips and Jason found his stomach flipping over when he was unexpectedly dragged into a lap. He sat perched on top of those thighs, his knees on the mattress. One of Ilya's hands gripped tightly to Jason's hip and the other hand... 

Was wrapped around Jason's neck.

A wave of crystal euphoria sent shivers down Jason's spine and straight to his erection. His eyebrows came together as he gasped harshly at the breathlessness Ilya was causing him. His hands settled on the thick forearm of the hand around his throat and he couldn't stop himself from stroking the blatant muscle and sinew there. Ilya wasn't squeezing hard, but he was getting his point across.

"Unless you want to be wrecked within an inch of your life, I suggest you put on your clothes, stop flaunting that little body at me, and get that fucking expression off your face," he hissed through his teeth, nostrils flaring in anger, squeezing Jason's throat ever so slightly at the end for emphasis. But this little nymph, this cock slut balanced on his lap, all he did was smile and place his hand on top of Ilya's.

"So ruin me," he said, and then squeezed Ilya's hand tighter around his neck. 

That broke him. Ilya swiftly stood up with Jason's lovely throat still in his strong hand and threw him on the bed. He was on him in an instant, roughly pulling off his Jason's shirt, insatiable, wild. Feral. Jason's lips swollen to a delicious red as Ilya kissed him roughly was a sight that made him hungry. Jason's hips squirming and writhing against every part of him he could reach made him feel like a man starved. And then, when Jason wiggled out of his boxer briefs to palm himself, he saw it. He saw the glint of the jewel set in the end of the plug. 

And that? That made Ilya ravenous.

He flipped Jason over with no warning, eliciting a squeak from the naked boy, nudging his thighs apart and hefting his hips into the air. His pert, round, jiggly bottom jutted up obediently. He looked over his shoulder to see Ilya's expression and blushed red hot when he saw the still fully-clothed man's cock in his hand. He was just... staring. His gaze felt like fire; he could feel himself burning where Ilya's eyes roved. It was incredibly intoxicating. Jason felt drunk just watching Ilya's big hand work on his even bigger cock.

"I want to see it bounce." Fuck, Ilya's voice was like a landslide of gravel. It took a moment for Jason's ears to work correctly, though he must've taken a moment too long because there was a loud crack! and then the pain in his left cheek registered and zinged to all his nerve endings. Did he just spank him? "I don't like repeating myself."

Struggling to catch his breath, Jason began clenching and unclenching his hole, feeling the plug twitch inside of him. Ilya moaned audibly and took hold of both cheeks to squeeze and spread them. The stretch of muscle nudged the plug further inside and just barely grazed his prostate. Jason made an unintelligible sound, jaw falling slack. When Ilya placed a thumb on the emerald jewel and pushed, Jason had to turn his head to scream into his pillow.

Apparently, Ilya didn't like that. One of his wrists was grabbed and held at his lower back. "Let me hear you." 

Jason knew his blush had spread to his ears and the tops of his shoulders by now. "Yessir," he said, all in a rush. He aimed to please. It was all he wanted.

"Hold yourself open for me, princess." Jason was only too quick to comply, supporting himself on his face and chest. He burned with humiliation at the pet name, his untouched dick steadily drooling onto his sheets. At that moment, he was glad he hadn't made his bed this morning. He grounded himself by squeezing tightly to his plump cheeks. Jason actually got a moment to breathe as there was no action on Ilya's end for a length of time. Just as he was about to open his eyes to sneak a peek at Ilya, his nervous system suddenly went haywire and a shout got caught in his throat. Through many attempts at not choking, Jason finally drew in a ragged breath that was exhaled as a broken moan.

"Fuck!" he shouted, voice breaking. Ilya's grip on the princess plug was strong as he relentlessly drove it in over and over, fucking Jason's pretty cunt with it, intentions set on his little g-spot. The noises Jason made as he reamed him with the metal plug were doing something to Ilya deep inside. A stirring he'd not let himself feel in a very long time.

"Ilya!" Jason screamed. "S-stop or I-I-" With a wicked smirk, Ilya changed the angle of the plug, making Jason cut himself off with a moan in that beautifully ruined voice. "I-I'm gonna cum-"

"You'd better be able to do it again because I'm not done with you," Ilya growled in his ear, running a hand up Jason's flank and twisting a nipple. He bit down on Jason's neck, never ceasing with his ministrations, not even when Jason's eyes rolled back and his cock spurted thick lines of cum onto his sheets.

Panting, Jason's shoulders shook with the effort of keeping himself up. Noticing this, Ilya pulled the plug out, breathing in the high-pitched whine that passed Jason's lips. He flipped the naked boy over, licking his lips when he caught sight of the erection that didn't flag at all.

"Open your mouth," Ilya demanded quietly. Jason did just that. Ilya leaned forward and ran the plug over Jason's lips. The boy's once-blue eyes looked black with desire. "Stick out your tongue." The good boy was only too quick to comply. Jason obediently and hungrily licked the plug that had been inside him all day, saliva running down his chin as his mouth watered. 

"Yeah, that's it, baby, lick it clean," Ilya breathed, watching in awe as Jason's tongue swiped along the metal. Ilya groaned when Jason took the whole thing into his mouth, eyes connecting with heat waves between them. Jason's cheeks hollowed out lewdly, and Ilya's mouth suddenly went dry as he thought about those beautiful lips wrapped around something else. He pushed a finger into Jason's mouth along with the plug and Jason pliantly sucked, wrapping his hands around Ilya's wrist and sliding up his forearm to his large bicep, eyes closing in bliss. Ilya took the moment to appreciate how pleasing Jason's naked body looked under him. He looked down and, oh. Jason was rutting against him. Like he didn't just have an orgasm seconds before. Ilya found a genuine smile crossing his lips at the sight of this horny boy thrusting his hips up, desperate for contact. 

Ilya straightened up, pulling the plug from Jason's mouth with a pop and throwing it the side. Jason blinked his eyes open, a small whine bubbling up from his throat. But his eyes widened when he saw Ilya tear his shirt over his head and instantly sat up to run his hands and lips along a rock hard torso. Jason wasn't expecting to get so turned on when he noticed the dark dusting of chest hair, but it looked so manly and rugged he found himself spreading his legs wider on instinct. He lowered his mouth, breath ghosting over a throbbing, veiny cock framed by dark jeans and glistening with precum that dribbled down the shaft.

A broken, cut-off sob from above him made his eyes shift up to Ilya's face. He was shaking his head and running a hand down his face. "No," he said, chest heaving. He backed off, standing up off the bed, tucking his still-hard dick into his pants and zipping them up.

"What?" Jason asked. "What's wrong?" His legs were still splayed out, boner still wagging in the air. He was also trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry," Ilya said. "You're... beautiful, so beautiful." He stopped himself and just didn't explain further, which, what the fuck? Jason had been having literally the best time of his life.

"Then why'd you stop?"

"I have to go." He began gathering his things. Clothes and backpack in hand, he reached for the door handle.

"You're just gonna leave me like this?" came Jason's heartbroken reply. Ilya closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the image that was about to be imprinted into his brain. Jason looked so sad and genuinely disaffected, that Ilya could not go through with his abandonment. He threw his things off to the sides of him, and betrayed every instinct he had telling him to walk out that door. 

He stepped closer to Jason, eyes slowly raking him from head to toe. Jason stiffened, anticipation wrought throughout his body. Jason wanted desperately to know what Ilya wanted from him, was going to do to him, but at the same time, the not knowing made it so much hotter. Ilya was a wild card, Jason saw that now. He wasn't this controlled entity, he was just as lost as Jason was. He took comfort in that. In fact, he felt his heart open and the thump of his blood rushing became faster. 

When Ilya reached him, looking down at his target, he snatched Jason's ankle and violently yanked him to the end of the bed, leaning down and forward in one swift swoop, Jason's legs coming with him, pinning his knees to his shoulders. Jason let out the cutest whimper.

"Never," he promised. Then he dipped his head down and licked from the top of Jason's crack to the tip of his penis. A full-bodied shiver followed the moan that was torn straight from Jason's soul. Ilya hungrily buried his face in Jason's ass, tongue relentless as it slid easily in and out of Jason's stretched hole. Jason's arms wound their way through his thighs and his hands found purchase in Ilya's silky, dark locks. He thrusted his hips up, pushing his hole as close to Ilya's face as possible. Ilya's jaw worked roughly and Jason reveled in the sharp pressure of Ilya's chin digging into his sensitive flesh. Ilya growled and if at all possible, fucked his tongue further into Jason's pink pussy. 

He pulled back to admire his handiwork, tenderly running a thumb over Jason's winking hole before delivering a sharp slap to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle enticingly. He was staring again, he knew that, but he couldn't stop. Jason's whine broke him out of his reverie.

"Please," he panted, but anything he was going to say died in his throat as Ilya applied pressure with his thumb against the rim of Jason's puffy hole. 

"Is this what you want? Something inside of you?" He continued to press, but resisted any penetration.

"Yes, please! Please, Ilya, anything, I'll be so good I promise," Jason sobbed, tears flowing freely, desperation clear on his face, in his voice, throughout his body.

"Watch me." Jason's eyes snapped open and then widened when he saw Ilya dragging his middle and index fingers out of his mouth, now coated generously in saliva. He positioned them at his entrance and said, "Watch as I finger your pretty pussy."

Jason eagerly propped himself up on his elbows, eyes flying from where his hole was being penetrated to Ilya's intense green eyes and back again. He heard only a faint ringing in his ears as Ilya's long, broad fingers bottomed out, his head falling back before remembering Ilya's demand. He didn't hear himself whispering yes over and over. He was going crazy with the slow, torturous pace Ilya had set, seeing to his own exploration of Jason's canal before seeing to Jason's pleasure. His head was rolling around on his shoulders and he was muttering nonsense, but he just couldn't stay still. 

"Please," a quiet beg bubbled past his lips. "Please," he sobbed once more. 

"You want it rough?" Jason nodded frantically. "Fast?" Another nod. "Fine, then show me." The fingers stilled altogether and Jason suddenly knew what Ilya wanted of him.

"No, please," he cried. "Please, please, I need it, please fuck me." He cried more. He couldn't help it. He'd waited so long.

"Do it yourself." Ilya looked wicked, clearly loving the effect he had on Jason.

Glaring up at him through his tears, Jason planted his feet on the mattress and supported more of his weight on his elbows as he lifted his hips up, rocking himself onto Ilya's fingers. This is what Ilya wanted: Jason fucking himself on his fingers, Jason burning pink all over with humiliation, Jason cumming like this.

Jason set a fast pace for himself, so fast his hips started stuttering with the impossible speed he was attempting. Ilya took pity on him and shoved his fingers all the way in as Jason thrusted forward. Jason moaned with the impact and Ilya thought he looked so ethereal, so stunningly gorgeous blissed out in pleasure like that that he kept up the fast pace, matching Jason's movements and never tearing his eyes from his face, watching the orgasm pass over his features. His full, sandy eyebrows pinched together, his freckles splattered across his nose, cheeks, and forehead bright with the blush under them, a small smile curling on his full, pink mouth as he drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down, moans tumbling past anyway. His spine curved off the bed as he came all over his stomach and chest. He remained suspended in the air with his back bent, shoving his face sideways into his pillow as aftershocks from Ilya still stroking his prostate sent shockwaves through his entire body, hands shaking as they gripped his sheets.

After the longest and most satisfying orgasm Jason had ever had in his entire life came to an end, he sagged back down onto the bed, panting, laughing, blinking stars away. He hadn't noticed Ilya pulling his fingers out, but he did notice Ilya dragging his tongue down his own hand, licking the remnants of Jason. Jason's hand flew to his cock immediately, a whimper coming out of him, as he stroked himself back to full hardness. That gave Ilya pause. He stared incredulously at Jason as he touched himself.

"You've got to be kidding me, you just came twice."

"Fuck me, Ilya." That's what Jason had wanted all along, from the first day he even met Ilya. He wanted to feel the searing heat of his hardness inside of him, feel his hot cum filling him up. "You can cum in me." He ran a hand down his body to his already pliant hole, spreading his legs again and pushing his finger inside.

The emotions that ranged across Ilya's face were so varied, Jason couldn't even begin to understand what he was going through. He sat up and reached out a hand to him. "I want to make you feel good, Ilya." When Ilya did not make a move to take his hand he rolled over instead and presented himself to him. "Please come fuck me. I want to make you cum."

Jason could sense this wasn't working. Ilya was pulling back, shaking his head again, making himself look away. "I-It's time for me to go-" Ilya turned around adjusting the growing wet spot where Jason hadn't noticed he'd already cum.

Jason cut him off, frantically looking for a way to get him to stay. "Okay! Okay, you don't have to fuck me," he reassured him, turning over onto his back and letting his head fall over the side of his bed. "But you can deep-throat me if you want. I'm really good at it."

The suggestion and the position almost made Ilya break, Jason could see it. 

"Fuck," he hissed harshly to himself, committing to memory the line of muscle that ran from Jason's collarbones down to his stomach as he lay stretched out like that, then quickly picked up his things and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Jason was left alone in his room, confused, horny, and honestly, a little mad. He bolted up from his bed and shoved his legs into any random pants he could find, then went rushing after Ilya. He could see him lacing up his boots by the front door as he descended the staircase.

"Ilya, please don't go, I'm sorry," he begged quickly, catching Ilya's attention. 

He shook his head again, sighing. "It's not you, Jason." He gave nothing else as he stood up and pulled the front door open. Jason reached him just before he could step outside and slammed the door shut, throwing himself in front of it. Ilya shut his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Jason, you don't understand, you couldn't understand-" He was cut off by Jason's lips, surprised by the kiss, but instinctively welcoming it, wrapping his free hand around Jason's waist, pulling him flush to his chest, and returning it with fervor. He broke the kiss, then bodily moved Jason aside and opened the door. "I must go. I'm sorry." He headed to his bike, leaving a dazed boy with a fluttering heart on the doorstep, cum still splattered on his naked torso.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilya avoids Jason following their little after school play date, but Jason is intent on seeing to Ilya's pleasure.

2

Jason knew Ilya could feel him staring at him from across the library because of the way his back was tensed. He knew he purposely sat with his back to him. He was avoiding him. Jason didn't like that. He bit down on the end of his pen, running his tongue around the tip, ignoring his other teammates doing work around him as they all waited for practice to start.

That is until one of them shook his shoulder. "Hey, Jason."

Jason looked up, pen stilling on his bottom lip. It was a shortstop named Richie. "You did a report on migratory patterns of native tribes for human geo, right? Mind showing me where some of the references you used were?" Richie asked.

He nodded and obediently stood up to follow Richie into the book stacks, knowing he was headed to the archives, and knowing it wasn't really references Richie wanted Jason's help with. What he didn't know was that Ilya's eyes followed him until he disappeared, and then stared some more.

Jason's heart started beating faster as he watched Richie's tight butt in his baseball uniform as he walked. Usually there was a little small talk before they started, but this time Richie hardly waited until they were out of sight of the long, narrow corridor to push Jason up against a tall book shelf and ravage his mouth. Jason was glad to skip the preamble, needing something to distract himself with. He returned the kiss with fervor, but their lips only stayed connected for a second longer before Richie moved to suck at his neck. Jason let out a hot breath and closed his eyes, turning his face skyward as big hands kneaded his ass. He could tell Richie was leaving marks. He always left marks. It was kind of his thing. He'd taken to Jason right away because he was the first person who let him be rough. So he was rough.

A particularly hard bite to the side of throat made Jason's mouth drop open and eyes cinch shut in a silent shout that he remembered to censor at the very last minute. He knew it was going to be angry and purple. It would be hard to explain, but he didn't care. He stopped caring a long time ago if people knew he was a slut. He could already imagine what his parents would say.

What would Ilya say? What would Ilya _do_? 

Thinking about Ilya did a lot of different things to him just then. With the image of Ilya's broad, heaving chest blinking through his mind, he sunk to his knees, bringing Richie's fly down with him. He pressed his nose into Richie's stomach, mouthing over the boxer-clad hard-on.

"Oh, fuck," Richie groaned, definitely too loudly. He leaned forward and grabbed the bookshelf behind Jason. The thought of getting caught by someone in such a compromising position brought a hot burn to Jason's cheeks.

Something he admitted to himself years ago was that Jason _loved_ getting caught. He wanted everyone to know just how delicious he was when he's being impaled on a big, fat cock. He liked when bruises were left on his alabaster skin, fingerprints left on his soft, exquisite hips from a hard, fast fucking, hickeys on his appealing neck and collarbones. He _wanted_ people to know he was a slut, to know he could and would take any dick that came his way. It was no illusion that he spent most of his time on his back and on his knees, drenched in semen one hour, bound and gagged the next. His teammates knew it, his teachers knew it, and his family knew it.

He stuck his tongue out and met Richie's eyes as he slid his length down his throat. With lots of proud practice, Jason has gotten his gag reflex under control. Richie's dick slid easily down his throat and back out as a quick pace of deep throat-fucking was set. Fisting his hands in Richie's jeans, Jason closed his eyes, and greedily stuck out his tongue further.

But in his mind it wasn't Richie's dick he was sucking. The girth, the shape, the length, it was all close enough to fool him into thinking it was Ilya bent over him. He'd fixed every detail of Ilya in his mind, burned into his eyelids, so when he closed them he saw only what he needed to see.

It was Ilya grasping Jason's soft hair and pulling, telling him how much of a good boy he was, taking that whole damn thing. He obeyed so prettily, so ready to please. Jason wished he'd seen Ilya fully naked, and sank into the memories of changing in the athletics locker room next to a dripping wet Ilya, still clothed far too much in a towel around his hips. 

The pinch of his zipper around his hardening erection rudely interrupted his blissful fantasy, but it was Richie's completion down his throat that choked him into reality, dazing him just long enough for his eyes to start to water. A softening cock slid out of his throat as he regained control over his breathing, and a satiated Richie zipped up his uniform and leaned down to forcefully kiss Jason on his used mouth, harshly biting his lip.

"Such a whore," he said, almost lovingly, with something that could be called admiration. He had a glint in his eye. Jason had seen that glint directed towards him from many a man's gaze. He gripped his jaw tight, then left Jason sitting back on his heels on the ground.

Jason let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and rested his head against the bookshelf behind him. He closed his eyes, glad to be alone in a quiet place. Bringing his attention back to his body made him painfully aware of his rock hard dick, throbbing in his pants, begging to be touched. He was loathe to do it alone. He much preferred coming along with a prostate orgasm. His hole clenched at the emptiness there, wishing to be bent over table and made to take a fat cock.

He knew he whined audibly then, but it was just a small, frustrated noise that he couldn't hold back as he slid his palm down to his crotch and thrust his hips up. He'd be embarrassed at the desperation he was exhibiting as he rutted helplessly against his own hand were anyone around to see it, but deep in the archives where secrets got lost, he knew he didn't have to worry.

He only started worrying when a strong hand closed around his throat and _lifted_ him up, forcing him onto his feet and _slamming_ him into the bookcase that wobbled dangerously. Jason's eyes snapped open with a gasp, Ilya's livid face coming into focus. Unlike the last time Ilya grabbed his throat, he actually applied pressure, and Jason found himself struggling to breathe in. The lack of oxygen sent blood straight to his dick. He was on his tip toes, hands curled around Ilya's muscular forearm that flexed as he loosened his grip enough to let Jason inhale.

"Did you think you were being quiet? That no one would know what a little cock slut like you was doing back here?" Ilya sounded mean, his words coming out as a hiss, fingers restless against Jason's neck, aching to hold tighter.

When Jason just stared into deep flaming pools of emerald, mouth working wordlessly, Ilya leaned down to his ear. "You just love getting caught, don't you?" Jason burned at the humiliation of being read so easily, eyelids fluttering at the orgasmic shiver that wracked his body. 

Ilya's grip shifted from his throat to his jaw, holding his face steady in the same way that Richie had. Jason then realized he'd watched their whole interaction, and he could feel how hot his face and chest were becoming. Ilya's smile looked more like a snarl as he said, "That's right; I watched you. I watched you get your pretty mouth fucked. I watched you rutting into the air, and touching yourself, and whining, just like an eager whore who has nothing to fill his little boy pussy."

Ilya's lips were brushing against the side of Jason's face as he spoke and Jason had to reach out and grasp at Ilya's broad shoulders to hold himself steady. Ilya's other hand found its way to the front of Jason's pants to give a teasing squeeze.

"Do you wanna come, princess?" Ilya asked. "Hm?" He tightened his grip on Jason's face when he received no response. He slammed his body into Jason's, which reverberated into the bookshelf. " _Answer me_."

"Yes," Jason finally gasped out, his voice sounding wrecked from Richie's cock. His hips had been grinding on nothing since the moment he was lifted out of his stupor. His mind had gone blank, focusing on his rather primitive need to come and the predator in front of him. Jason knew Ilya could feel his rapid pulse with the fingers pressing into the underside of his jaw.

Ilya's eyes scanned Jason's face many times, composure becoming soft when passing over supple lips. Over and over he did this, drinking in the features before him, not moving, but leaning so close with his body warmth. Jason wondered what he was searching for. What he could see. Then he retracted his arm and stood up straight and Jason drew in a breath he didn't let go. Ilya took a step back and Jason's lungs burned with stillness as he dared not move and send him running again.

Jason exhaled as Ilya pointed without looking to a dark and empty study room. He headed there immediately, keeping eye contact with Ilya as he brushed past him, knowing every single one of his movements were being tracked meticulously. Ilya definitely didn't inhale every single sweet scent that Jason waved his way.

The room was dark and it stayed that way, with only a patch of light from the window to see by, as Jason was backed into the table. He gripped the edges. He could almost feel his eyes watering from the intensity of the way Ilya just kept _looking_ at him, even in the shadows. Something hot, mixed with a little disdain, yes, he definitely saw that in there. Jason felt on fire. And his heart wouldn't stop hammering with the anticipation of what Ilya's next move would be. But Jason knew Ilya knew. That he could pretty much do anything to him and he'd be okay with it. At least that was what he was trying to portray with the neediness that rolled off of him in waves.

Ilya's head dipped dangerously down to the shorter boy's lips, pulling back just enough to see Jason raising desperately onto his tip toes. Ilya reached up and pinched the mark on Jason's neck that had been left by another and reveled in the sharp hitch of breath he received.

It took Jason by surprise when Ilya easily swooped him up and onto the table, his ass sitting down hard and hands coming up to reflexively grip Ilya's shoulders. "Open your mouth," Ilya commanded, presenting his index and middle fingers of his right hand while his left hand undid Jason's fly. 

Glad to have something to focus on, Jason sucked greedily, mouth watering now that he could tell Ilya was breathing just as fast as him. The darkness of the room leeched most of his sight from him, but he could sense so much more from the invisible signs Ilya was giving off. He knew he was being held at arms length with Ilya, he knew that Ilya was not going to let him touch him, and he knew all this in the dark, from what Ilya couldn't hide.

With his fingers entirely in his mouth, Jason stared at where he knew Ilya's eyes were, based on the shadow of a cheekbone he could see from the faint light of the window. Right then Jason understood Ilya was going to bring him pleasure, even while being seething angry at pretty much everything and him, and ask for none in return.

With Ilya's fingers coated generously and Jason's pants ripped off over his shoes, Jason's heart stopped while he waited to get finger-fucked. Ilya chuckled darkly when there was no resistance to Jason's entrance, his hole eagerly welcoming the delicious intrusion. More than once Ilya had to still Jason's overzealous hips that began rocking forward to meet the digits harder.

It was when Jason whined high pitched and needy and long, that Ilya smiled wickedly and asked, "Do you want me to finger your pussy faster?"

"Fuck, yes!"

"So not slow like this?" He pushed his fingers in _deep_ , and curved them as he slowly pulled them out, grazing his prostate and applying lots of pressure when Jason twitched and his eyelids fluttered.

"N-no, ngh," Jason moaned, eyes rolling back as Ilya scissored him with his fingertips, keeping him spread open. Jason cried out Ilya's name, probably much too loud, when Ilya spat into him.

"Mmm, I wanna get a look at that hole," Ilya purred, pushing Jason's knees to his chest and leaning in. He pulled out his phone and took a picture, the flash startling Jason who flailed around incredulously. Ilya wanted to be able to see this forever.

"Ilya, delete that!" Ilya couldn't see Jason's face, but he knew his cheeks were an alluring pink. He held Jason's legs steady with one hand and his shoulders.

He needed the other hand free to spank Jason directly on his wet hole. Jason choked on his sob and his hips rutted violently into the air. "Please! Please, you can do whatever you want to me, photograph me, film me, I don't fucking care, just please fuck me, please make me cum, fuck, Ilya, please-"

"You're so beautiful when you beg, how can I say no?" He spat on Jason's hole again, the action making Jason quiver and his cock dance, and this time he shoved three fingers past Jason's puffy rim, fingered him fast and hard, and did not let up as Jason writhed, back arching off the table.

"Oh, fuck! Fuuuuck, I-I'm gonna cum!" Jason's scream from Ilya's mouth descending onto his shaft was cut off by Ilya's hand. Jason grabbed it and pressed his face into his palm, stifling his shouts of pure ecstasy as he came down Ilya's throat, seeing nothing but white.

His breathing slowed as Ilya's mouth popped off his cock, but he kept his fingers pumping slowly inside him, milking the last ringlets of pleasure from Jason's wrecked prostate. "That feel better, baby?"

" _Yes_ ," Jason breathed, vision still not totally normal. His hands wandered Ilya's torso and arms on their own accord. Post-climax Jason was always very touchy. He had an inherent need to be cuddled. He complained when Ilya retracted his fingers, wishing he had a plug to clench down on.

"Such a needy hole," Jason heard from far away as Ilya admiringly petted him. He felt his pants being slid over his sneakers and pulled up, his cock being tucked away, and his zipper being done before he even registered hearing the door open and close. But he knew he felt cold all of a sudden and that meant Ilya was gone. 

There was where he stayed, legs hanging off the small study room's table, regaining his breath and letting his heart beat as widely as it needed it go, until it was time for practice.

That night Jason couldn't sleep. He stared openly at his ceiling, noticing how silent it was in his room. No clock ticking, no air kicking on, no hum of electricity, just deafening silence. He looked at the ungodly hour that shone on his alarm clock. With an impatient sigh, he played some music to help him fall asleep and turned over onto his side, closing his eyes, all the while wishing it could be Ilya's voice he was hearing, describing a dream.

Jason steeled himself for what he was about to do. Having decided last night that he wanted nothing else, he walked right up to where Ilya was standing at his locker and asked him on a date.

"You wanna go on a date? With me." Ilya looked seriously disturbed by the thought and it made Jason stumble over his next few words.

"Well, yeah, I mean..." He laughed nervously, ruffling his hair. "Unless you don't want to..."

Ilya didn't answer.

"Right, what I meant was we seem... compatible, so why not?"

It was Ilya's turn to laugh then, a harsh sound that startled Jason. "I'm not 'compatible' with anyone. Trust me." He closed his locker and slung his book bag over his shoulder. Jason shook himself out of his doubts and ran a few steps to catch up with Ilya.

"Okay, so no date, that's fine. Could I at least have your phone number?" At this point Jason would take any scrap of attention Ilya would give him. He was that desperate, and he didn't care if he was showing it.

Ilya stopped and fixed him with a stare. "What would you want with my phone number?"

Honestly, Jason didn't think he'd ever have to answer that question, so he was left a little dumbfounded when asked point blank. "I don't know, to get in contact with you? Outside of school? I just, kind of wanted to talk to you last night."

Ilya tapped his finger on the strap of his bag, checking his watch. "I don't think that's a good idea. Listen, I gotta get to class."

But Jason didn't give up that easily. He grabbed Ilya's arm and yanked him back. Ilya seemed to be expecting that as he let out an impatient sigh. But he still let Jason manhandle him against a wall of the quickly emptying hall.

"What's your problem with me, dude? Seriously, can't you see that I'm like obsessed with you?" Jason wanted to scream, but he ground his teeth down and held it back. And maybe "obsessed" was a strong word to use, but fuck it, Jason was a man obsessed. "You watch me, I _know_ you watch me. I can see that you want me."

He stepped closer to Ilya, hands bunching in his shirt, noses brushing just barely. Jason squeezed his eyes shut tight, because if he saw Ilya's face within the next second he knew he wouldn't be able to say whatever sprang from his throat next.

"And I want you so badly," he whispered, tears springing to his eyes. "I think about you so much. I can't stop dreaming about you. And it's like every time I get close to having you, I wake up and I can't go back to sleep a-and I can't come, I can't do anything, e-except go fucking mad." He cried openly now, plump dew drops falling from his elegant lashes. "I've given myself to you over and over, _please_ let me have you..." 

Ilya thought Jason looked beautiful in that moment, so vulnerable and open, that he couldn't just leave him hanging like all those other times before. He couldn't corrupt this honesty and ruin Jason for others, because he was a treasure, he realized then, and one that he would not tarnish.

So he gripped him, one hand on his waist and the other on the back of his neck, and he drew him in, and just held him. He had no words for Jason, or rather too many words for Jason, words he could not say, so he just stood against the wall next to the band room that distantly started tuning their instruments and just let himself feel. And he hoped that Jason would feel it too.

Jason leaned his full weight against Ilya's firm, warm, solid chest and heaved a shuddering sigh. His body melted further and for a moment they were a puddle reflecting relaxed bodies of tranquility, and it was enough for Jason. He suddenly felt happy and a small smile curled on his lips, cracking the tear tracks that dried on his face.

Ilya's hand wove into Jason's hair and his arm wound tighter around Jason's waist, pulling him further into him. They were both late to class and monitors began walking the halls but the only one that passed them responded to Ilya's glare very wisely and moved along, leaving him to take care of the crying boy in his arms.

Jason whined when Ilya eventually put his hands on Jason's upper arms to extricate himself, but Ilya made Jason focus on him by tilting his chin and meeting his eyes. "I'm gonna walk you to class, okay, princess?"

Jason looked a little loopy and his pupils were blown wide, but he nodded and wiped his face. He followed the piney musk of Ilya's scent, filling his lungs to the brim with it. 

Outside of Jason's class that he was embarrassingly late for, he didn't let up his grip on Ilya's jacket, instead pulling him against himself out of range of the window. He leaned up, silently asking for a kiss, but Ilya only smiled.

"I'll kiss you at the end of the day if you can make that far," Ilya promised, waiting for Jason to enter his class, then heading past his fourth period and into the parking lot.

Jason rushed out of the building along with a horde of other students, eyes sweeping the people he saw milling about, looking for one specific face. Then he saw familiar curly, dark hair and exhaled. A smile couldn't help working itself across his lips. He slowed down and tried to maintain his composure as he neared the low wall Ilya sat on next to his bike, vision tunneling on one handsome face, illuminated by the 3 o'clock sun.

Ilya stood to greet Jason with a devastating smile and tucked something into his pocket. Eager as Jason was, he wouldn't mind getting his promised kiss right here out in the open. But Jason knew Ilya was more pragmatic than he, so he accepted the helmet that was held out to him, and clung to Ilya's taut waist as he was taken home.

In his driveway, only Jason hopped off the bike, handing back the helmet. Ilya turned off the engine and took off his own helmet, hooking two fingers into Jason's jeans and pulling him forward into a kiss. Jason melted entirely, straddling Ilya's thigh, wrapping his arms around Ilya's neck, and deepening it. Ilya pulled on Jason's bottom lip with his teeth and held up a piece of paper in front of Jason's face.

"My number." He slipped it into Jason's hand. "In case you ever need or want to talk to me." He kissed Jason's sweet lips and turned his engine over. "It's only for you."

Jason had a goofy grin on his face that Ilya thought about for the rest of the night.


End file.
